Friends
by jennyj90
Summary: A familiar face reappears in Molly's life
1. Chapter 1

**This is an idea I've been playing with for a while, set about 2 years in the future. I've got a rough plot outline in my head, but I would love to hear other peoples thoughts on where this could go. Thank you in advance :)**

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><p>Molly Dawes lay on the bottom bunk bed at her parents' house, tightening her eyes in an attempt to force herself asleep. Her mind kept whirring, struggling without the distraction of work or Charles.<p>

She wasn't on the front line anymore, having decided to settle closer to home. An opportunity had arisen at Headley Court and she'd jumped at the chance. She could still work as an army medic, but without needing eyes in the back of her head at all times. It was the perfect position for her.

Now that Charles was working at Sandhurst, training the Captains of tomorrow, it made life even better. They did their best to arrange their time off so that they could spend as much time together as possible. It didn't always work out that way, but when it did, they knew they were less than an hour's drive apart.

But that morning as she'd gotten herself ready, Charles had phoned to say that he was in Bath. His grandmother was unwell, so he'd travelled down the previous night. She was undeniably gutted, but she knew it was the perfect excuse to spend some time with her own family. She didn't see much of them nowadays and it always left her feeling guilty.

She gave up trying to sleep and reached for her phone, deciding to have a quick browse of Facebook. She chuckled as she came across some pictures of her former comrades, clearly posted during a drunken night out. She missed them all so much, but nowhere near as much as she missed Smurf.

It had been two long years since he died. The memory was still so raw and painful. Nobody could ever replace him, nor would she ever allow anyone else close enough to try. The thought of losing another friend was an unbearable one. She sniffed, wiping a tear from her cheek. She was travelling to Wales to see his mum in less than a month. Molly and Candy had grown a close bond, finding comfort in each other's connection to Smurf.

Suddenly her phone started ringing, bringing her back from her thoughts.

_Geddings_

"Hello?" She answered, keeping her voice to a whisper. She tiptoed downstairs, careful not to wake her family. She crept into the kitchen and shut the door.

"How's my favourite trouble maker?"

"Why are you calling me?" Molly didn't mean to sound rude, but they hadn't spoken since her first deployment to Afghanistan. She regularly saw his Facebook updates, but the most contact they'd had was the odd comment or 'like' on a status or photograph. Nothing of any interest at least.

"Charming," Geddings laughed. "Saw you online and figured you couldn't sleep either."

"What's keeping you awake?"

"Packing. I'm on my way to Colchester in the morning. I start three months training next week, and then I'll be working with A Company at the MCTC."

"Are you sure you ain't gonna be a resident, Corp?"

"That's Sergeant now thank you very much, Dawes. And no, I will not be there as a resident. How you managed to escape becoming one I'll never know. So how are you finding Headley?"

"How'd you know I'm there?"

"You changed your job description on Facebook, you plank."

"Oh. Well it's amazing. I mean, some of these soldiers have been through so much, yet they're so strong emotionally. I wish I were half as brave as them."

The line went silent for a moment, leaving Molly wondering if he'd hung up on her. She pulled her phone from her ear to check the call was still connected, and then raised it back to her ear and listened for a moment.

"Where are you?" He asked, stopping himself quickly almost as though he was attempting to backtrack the words after they'd left his mouth.

"London...why?"

"What are you doing tomorrow?"

"Well I was planning a nice romantic meal and maybe a movie, but looks like it'll be fish and chips in front of the TV."

"Come to Colchester. If you help me unpack I'll buy you that meal and take you to whatever movie you want to see."

"I dunno, Corp…" she couldn't help but feel guilty that she was even contemplating it. She knew Charles trusted her wholeheartedly and would never question who she spent her time with. But dinner and a movie sounded far too much like a date. "I have a boyfriend."

"Jesus, Dawes, I don't plan on shagging you! Forget I asked…"

"Wait!" Molly quickly interrupted, sensing the call was about to end. It was just a harmless day out, she thought. Charles had said he'd be gone for at least a couple of days, and it wasn't as though she had anything better planned. "I'll meet you at the garrison at 1100 hours."

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><p><strong>AN 1 MCTC stands for Military Corrective Training Centre. The only one in the UK is in Colchester, Essex. Despite what many people think, it is not a prison; although the Service Custody Platoon does house some who are awaiting transfer to HMP or YOI. The facility can hold up to 284 servicemen and women, and provides corrective training for those who have been sentenced to periods of detention. This ranges from 14 days to 2 years. **

**A/N 2 A Company is for those who will remain in the services after they have served their sentence. During their stay they are encouraged to improve their efficiency, discipline and morale. This is with the aim that they will become better service personnel.**

**A/N 3 D Company is for those will be discharged upon completion of their sentence. They are taught the means to become self sufficient, as well as providing them with the appropriate skills and training needed to return to civilian life. **


	2. Chapter 2

**Sorry I've been side-tracked by my other stories recently, but I have drafted another couple of chapters for this one, so I will get those finished and uploaded soon. I hope you all enjoy x**

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><p>Colchester was a beautiful town, Molly thought to herself. She'd spent an hour on the train that morning, and was now in a taxi on her way to meet Geddings. They drove past some charming old buildings, mixed with open stretches of land and even a castle. Part of her still doubted that what she was doing was right, but she knew that if nothing else it was a wonderful place to spend a day out.<p>

The taxi pulled up, allowing Molly to step out. She paid the driver, and made her way over to the entrance of the garrison. It reminded her of Pirbright in many ways, although there were still many notable differences. Unfortunately, one thing seemed to linger in both places like a bad smell.

"Alright, stranger," she called out. Geddings was stood near the entrance, leant back against a wall. His head was down in the most uncomfortable looking way, leaving Molly wondering if he'd somehow fallen asleep. She approached quietly, her mind ticking as she contemplated her next move. "Oi!" she shouted, the second she was beside him.

Geddings jumped, throwing his head back as he did so. There was a loud smack as it made contact with the bricks behind him. "Fucking hell."

"Well that wasn't the welcome I expected," Molly said, pulling him down to her height so that she could inspect his head. His hair was still in the same style she remembered, but caked in hair gel to hold it in place. She loved the fact Charles didn't use any, because it meant she could run her hands freely through his loose curls.

"So what's the damage?" Geddings asked.

"You'll live," she replied, playfully punching his arm. "What the fuck were doing asleep, you pranny?"

"I drove a hundred and ten miles this morning, I'll have you know. I had to leave at 0600 to make it here and get unpacked in time to see you. Now I'm pissing knackered."

"My heart bleeds." Molly looked at him; hand on heart in mock pain. Her cheek twinged with the beginnings of a smile. "It's strange seeing you in civvies, Corp."

"Well it does happen occasionally, Dawes. Now I don't know about you, but I'm more than ready for my lunch. Follow me."

They walked through the grounds relatively unnoticed as made their way towards the Community Centre. The short walk was spent in silence, but Molly wasn't going to complain as it gave her the opportunity to admire the surroundings. The Community Centre was a brilliant idea, with its own convenience store, radio station, youth club and even a pre-school. Families of military personnel wandered the corridors; soldiers and civilians interacting freely.

Charles had taken her on numerous weekend breaks around the UK and abroad, but she still found joy in visiting new places. It was an opportunity she was never afforded when she was younger.

They made their way into the small homely bar on site. Mirrors lined one wall, reflecting the small celling lights around the room. Molly caught a glimpse of herself, her cheeks reddened by the harsh winter air. She ran her fingers through her hair, releasing the wind-swept tangles; whilst Geddings found them a table.

She hooked her coat onto the back of a chair before sitting herself down to look through the menu. It wasn't as impressive as the restaurant Charles often took her to in Bath, but it was still nice all the same. Her mind wandered as she thought of her boyfriend and what he was doing. She couldn't help but miss him.

"So tell me about this fella of yours?" Geddings asked, clearly reading her mind.

"He's tall, dark and handsome. He's got the most amazing singing voice and has this cute little dimple on his forehead when he's frowning. His smile…"

"Fuck me sideways," Geddings interrupted.

"What?"

"He's one of those blokes that make the rest of look pathetic. Let me guess, he's some super rich multiple business owner as well."

"As if. He's actually at Sandhurst."

"Did he work his way up to go there or is he some poncey university graduate?"

Molly ran her finger under her hairline, flicking the loose strands away from her face. She couldn't help but think of a young Charles, fresh from university, standing in his Sandhurst uniform. She looked over at Geddings, clearly feeling uncomfortable. It gave her a strange satisfaction, knowing that her boyfriend was higher ranking than him.

"Nah, he finished all that shit years ago, done four tours since."

"Oh right," he shuffled in his seat, focussing his eyes on the menu in front of him. "Reckon I might try the steak. Need something to make me feel like a man again."

As they began chatting and catching up on all of the events in each other's lives, they started to relax in one another's company. It was a strange scenario, but one that was by no means uncomfortable. The conversation flowed easily and they found themselves getting along surprisingly well.

"You were proper loved up with me," Molly laughed, recalling their days at Catterick.

"You wish, Dawes. From what I remember it was the other way around. Although given that your new boyfriend's an army lad as well, I reckon you've just got a thing for men in uniform."

"Well firstly there's nothing new about him; and secondly, there were 8 blokes in my section, if I had a _thing_ for men in uniform I would have fancied all of 'em."

"So he wasn't in your section…interesting. Same platoon?"

"Not exactly…" Molly shuffled in her seat, contemplating whether or not to tell him. Whilst it was fairly common knowledge that she and Charles were now together, she was still hesitant about telling people the details. "He was… the Captain."

Geddings gasped, before letting out a small chuckle. "Molly Dawes, you do surprise me. Now c'mon, tell me everything."

It was nice for Molly, finally having someone else to talk to again. The lads from 2 Section were all brilliant, but whenever she even broached the subject of their tour together, they all shut down, pained by the memory of losing Smurf. Her family were willing to listen, but they didn't understand. Charles was the only person who understood and was prepared to listen, but she knew he found it hard.

"What time have you gotta head home?"

Molly looked at her watch. It was only two in the afternoon, she still had plenty of time. She'd taken the whole week off as holiday and she was only two days in. Charles hadn't called yet to say he was coming home, and her family wouldn't miss her if she was gone for a few more hours. They barely even noticed her when she was there.

"Not yet."

Gedding leaned forward, his mouth close to her ear. "I snuck some beer into my room if you fancy it?"

"C'mon then, you twisted my arm."


	3. Chapter 3

The accommodation block in Merville Barracks, was not dissimilar looking to a modern apartment block from the outside. Spread over 3 floors, there were around 40 rooms in this block alone. Typically, Geddings had been given a room on the very top floor, making Molly's discreet entrance, unfortunately difficult.

Like teenagers, sneaking back into their parents' house after curfew, they walked on tip-toes, their hands over their mouths in case they were caught out by their breathing. As soon as they were safely through the door, they both erupted into fits of giggles, falling to the floor until they'd regained control of themselves.

"I dunno about you, Corp, but that gave me the biggest adrenaline rush I've had in years!"

"And all because you wanted to sneak into my bedroom."

Molly suddenly felt very uncomfortable. "Maybe I should go."

"Fucking hell, Dawes, relax! I was only having a laugh. I told you on the phone last night, I don't plan on shagging you, and I meant it. Come on, pick a DVD and I'll grab the beers."

Molly looked around the room, taking it all in. She'd only ever stayed in barracks when she was a recruit at Pirbright, and that accommodation was vastly different. Unlike the large shared rooms she was used to; this was a decent sized double room, with a small kitchenette and en-suite. Whilst it was surprisingly comfortable looking, she couldn't help but feel the whole place needed a splash of colour. The neutral walls, bedding and furniture, all seemed to blend into one.

"DVDs are in the top drawer," Geddings told her, clearly sensing that she was feeling lost.

She made her way over to the chest of drawers underneath the TV, and flicked through the small collection of DVDs, surprised by what awful taste he had. She sighed in disappointment and shut the drawer again.

"Here," Geddings handed her the drink. "So tell me about your tours."

"I already told you. What else do you wanna know?"

"Correction, Dawes; you told me about your boyfriend's tour and this fella Smurf's tour; but not about yours. So c'mon, spill."

Molly stared down at the cold can in her hand. She only ever thought of Afghanistan through their eyes, because through hers it was too painful. When she thought of it through theirs, she could pretend it wasn't real, she could change the details. It was like reading a book, or watching a film. Everyone interprets them in their own way. But her memories were real and they couldn't be changed; no matter how much she wished they could sometimes.

"My second tour was short. I went over there for three months to train the Afghan medics. It was an amazing experience, and I got so much closure. I even got to meet up with a few people I met during my first tour."

"Army or civvies?"

"Both. This man, Qaseem, he worked with us as a translator. He was easily the nicest, kindest person I've ever met. He went through so much; the Taliban killed his wife and daughter; blew up their apartment. He always said that he had nothing but guilt, but that wasn't true. He had nothing to be guilty for, it wasn't his fault."

"Hold up, you're telling me someone else's story again." Geddings lay back on the bed and rested one hand behind his head. "Carry on."

"Ok, so I made friends with this little girl, Bashira. She lived in the village near the FOB. I knew her dad was a proper bell end, stopping her from going to school and promising her to a man. But then it turned out he was in league with the insurgency. Anyway, cos I was the only one who'd eyeballed him, I became a key part in the operation to capture him."

"Did you?"

"Kinda" Molly faltered, "I killed him."

"First kill?"

Molly looked at him, fighting her emotions. "Only kill. He'd already shot Charles and Smurf, I had to do something."

Geddings sat up, suddenly interested. "You didn't tell me this earlier? You told me Smurf got injured in the mine field, and that you angered that Captain of yours by going up on the winch. You told me about Smurf being fragged and your boss being a bit of a dick when you first met him. Let's forget all the mushy shit you said. Why did you bypass probably the biggest event of your entire tour?"

"It's not exactly my favourite memory."

"But it's a big one. Start from the beginning."

"Well we went on the mission like I said. It had to remain covert so we were dropped 3 kilometres from a bridge pass. We made our way along this irrigation ditch…fuck me the thunder there scared the shit out of all of us! Anyway, we secured a disused compound about 50 metres from the check-point and waited there until we saw the suspect truck. Our ASF contact was a fucking nut case, I tell you; absolutely no use whatsoever."

"Back to you," Geddings interrupted.

Molly rolled her eyes. "Once the truck was stopped, we went out and got into position. Smurf was told to keep an eye on this farmer to the west of us, whilst I went with the boss to search the back of the truck. Next thing we know, Smurf shot the bleeding goat. I didn't know why at the time, but then it turned out he'd seen the boss and I kissing in the compound."

"Oh shit."

"Yeah, exactly. So whilst the boss went to talk to Smurf, I kept an eye on the truck. I just kept staring, cos I knew something weren't right. I tried looking for Badrai, but they were all in niqabs and burqas, so I didn't see him until it was too late." She tightened her eyes, desperate not to cry. "I still don't know how I wasn't hit. It should have been me not them."

"Why do you think that?"

"Cos it was all my fault. I was the one that got involved with Bashira, I was the one that stirred up trouble. Her dad was killed and her brother arrested; I tore her family apart! She had to be taken into care, and even then she had to be moved cos she was in danger."

"But she was ok in the end? So what's your fault?"

Molly took a deep breath, struggling to restrain her emotions. She'd done so well controlling them until that point, but there was only so much she could fight them. "Smurf dying!" As soon as she spat the words out, she allowed herself to cry.

Geddings instantly sat up, wrapping his arms around her and allowing her the time she needed to let it all out. As soon as her sobs dampened, he pulled back slightly, his face hovering close to hers. "This Taliban twat killed him?"

"No. It was…a brain haemorrhage."

"So it definitely wasn't your fault."

"I was his best friend, a trained medic, I should have noticed something was wrong!"

Geddings gently moved a stray hair from her face, his thumb stroking her cheek as it went past. He held his hands to the sides of her face, forcing her to look him in the eye. "There is no way you should have been carrying this weight on your shoulders for so long. None of it was your fault, Dawes, I promise you. Don't ever think it was, don't ever think you did anything wrong."

Molly stared at him, trying to steady herself with long, deep breaths. "Ok."

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><p><strong>AN - Trust me**


	4. Chapter 4

**Thank you for all of your reviews! Keep them coming :)**

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><p>Molly sat quietly on the edge of the bed, watching the ridiculously awful film that Geddings had chosen to put on. She'd already happily downed three beers, but even in her tipsy state, she still couldn't tolerate five more minutes of it.<p>

"I think I should be heading home," she said, standing herself up. Pain seared through her head as she did so, bringing her crashing back down.

"Fucking lightweight, you are," Gedding laughed. "Think you need to sober up a bit first. Come on, we'll walk into town for a coffee. The fresh air alone should work wonders."

Molly knew she didn't have much choice but to agree. Years of being teetotal had certainly weakened her ability to hold a drink. It was already late afternoon and she hadn't planned on staying out too late, even hoping that she might get an early night. She couldn't help but laugh at herself, and the realisation that she'd become old before her time. Still, she thought, there was no harm in being mature.

The walk took about half an hour, but it felt so much less. 'There's fit, and then there's army fit' she remembered being told once. It was so true. Being able to walk for miles in the unrelenting Afghan heat with a fully loaded Bergen was certainly testament enough to the training each and every soldier had to go through.

As Molly and Geddings reached the town, they headed straight for the coffee shop. The cold winter air had frozen her extremities, but had been of little help supressing her nausea. The hot coffee, handed to her in a takeaway cup, was her only hope at sobering up before Christmas.

They wandered through to the castle grounds, admiring the beautifully green park, as the sun set around them. It was blissfully silent, with little more than the noise of trees rustling in the wind. A dog ran across in front of them, the owner chasing behind.

"Not sure who's walking who there!"

Molly watched on with a smile. "I would have loved a dog when I was little."

"Don't you count?"

"Oi, you cheeky git!" She shook her head, wrapping her hands tight around the warm cup. "My parents had too many kids to feed, I reckon. Do you have any siblings, Corp?"

"A brother and a sister actually; both married with kids now."

"Didn't you want that for yourself? Or are you married to your job?"

"Something like that." He turned his head slightly to look at her. "I met someone, years ago now. She was quirky and crazy and strong-minded; but my career got in the way and now it's too late because she's with someone else. I think that's why I volunteered for this transfer. I figured I'm in it for the long haul now, so I may as well give myself a new challenge."

"Didn't think about quitting the army completely then?"

"You must be having a laugh. Can you honestly imagine me being a civvy again?"

Molly stared at him for a moment. "Nah, I guess you're right."

"What about you, Dawes? Not ready for civilian life yet?"

"I dunno if I'll ever be ready to quit… not completely. I guess working at Headley kinda feels like a halfway point. Being an army medic is the only career I've ever really known - if you don't count working in a nail salon that is - and I'd like to think I'm semi-decent at it. Plus I get to be near Charles this way."

"You're pretty serious about him, aren't you?"

"Of course," she fell into a daydream, thinking about the man who could singlehandedly give wings to the butterflies in her stomach, whilst making her insides melt all at the same time. She knew she was head over hills, crazy about him.

"I'm happy for you," Geddings said, sitting down on a nearby bench.

"Really?"

"Yes, really. It's pretty bleeding obvious how much you love the bloke. I wouldn't mind meeting Mr Perfect one day though, maybe get some pointers."

Molly laughed, joining him on the bench and enjoying the darkness that had surrounded them. She leaned her head back, gazing into the night sky.

Suddenly a firework exploded above them, and whilst Geddings looked up, enjoying the spectacular sight, Molly quickly dove underneath the bench, bent down on all fours as the explosions continued.

"Molly?" Geddings knelt down in front of her, holding out his hand. "It's ok, it's just fireworks."

She stared at him, her eyes filled with terror. Her whole body was shaking with uncontrollable panic as she crouched there, squeezing his hand so tightly it began to turn blue. Geddings didn't react to it, instead reaching out his free arm and squeezing her shoulder, desperately trying to find a way to comfort her and help her to calm down.

The fireworks stopped, but it took Molly several minutes to build up the courage to step out from underneath the bench. She felt embarrassed, covering her face with her hands. She could feel tears quickly forming in her eyes as she threw herself into Geddings arms.

"What's wrong with me?" She asked, mentally kicking herself for what her rational mind was telling her was an overreaction.

"There's nothing wrong with you…but I think you've got PTSD."

Molly pulled away, wiping the tears from her eyes. "It's nothing like that. I'm just a bit fragged still and the fireworks scared me."

"It's nothing to be ashamed of, Molly, it's actually quite common."

She remained silent, trying to control her rapid breathing and palpitations. Suddenly another firework went off and she fell to the ground, her hands covering her head.

Geddings knelt down once more, doing his best to reassure her. "I promise you, we'll get you away from here, as soon as you're ready, we'll go back to the coffee shop or something."

As she lay there, refusing to move, her phone began to ring, the vibrations forcing it out of her pocket. Geddings lifted it up, and noticed the caller. As soon as he saw the name lighting up the screen, he knew he had to answer it.

"Captain James."

"Who's that?" The voice on the other end asked.

"I'm Sergeant Geddings. I'm with Molly…I think you need to get here as soon as possible."

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><p><strong>AN - PTSD stands for Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. A 2014 study found that approximately 7% of British Soldiers suffered from it after returning from Afghanistan. **


	5. Chapter 5

**Thank you for all of the support and encouragement x**

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><p>As soon as Molly and Geddings returned to Merville Barracks, they headed straight to the memorial gardens, seeking their peaceful surroundings. It was a small area, with a recoilless rifle, memorial stone and cross topped cairn, surrounding the various plants and trees. Molly wandered around, trying to reason with herself and find a way to make sense of what had happened, and why she'd reacted the way she had.<p>

Geddings sat quietly in the benched area, allowing her the space that she needed. He knew she needed to take her time. He sat watching her intently until she made her way over to him and said that she was ready to go inside. He didn't ask her anything, knowing that she would talk when she was ready to.

They entered his room and Molly lay herself down on the bed as instructed, closing her eyes and shutting out the world. Geddings was busy rummaging through the cupboards searching for something to eat, and swearing under his breath at how little there was. Molly wasn't hungry, but she knew that whilst he was pre-occupied, he would leave her be. She hugged the duvet, nestling herself into the fresh bedding, and allowing herself to fall asleep.

When she roused, she had no sense of what time it was or how long she'd slept. She heard a knock at the door, but kept her eyes firmly shut, still not quite ready to wake up. She listened as Geddings slowly opened the door and greeted the person there.

"Captain James?"

"Yes, but please call me Charles. Sorry, I did try calling but I think Molly's phone must have died."

"That's alright; it's lucky you found the place ok. Come in, she's still asleep."

Charles perched on the edge of the bed, stroking the hairs from her face. His thumb slowly traced the curve of cheek before running across her lower lip. "What happened?"

"I dunno. We went into town and everything was fine and we were having a laugh; then next thing I knew, she was cowering under the bench shaking like a leaf. It was pretty loud, but that reaction was quite extreme. Obviously I'm no expert, but looks like PTSD to me."

"The thunder…" Charles remembered. "There was a storm a few months ago and she just tucked herself into the corner of the room and stayed there until it stopped. She promised me she was fine and there weren't any other problems after that, so I had no reason to disbelieve her. It's been two years since her last tour, have I been missing it this whole time?"

"Don't blame yourself, there's any number of explanations. I'm sorry if I worried you on the phone, but she was in a right old state and I thought she might need you."

"She can speak for herself, you know," Molly muttered, stretching out her body.

Charles instantly leaned over, placing a kiss on her forehead. "How are you feeling?"

"Like I've just been woken up by two cockwombles gossiping about me. Otherwise I'm fine, how's your Nan?" She sat herself up, pushing the duvet away and heading over to the sink to get herself some water.

"She's getting there; tough as old boots that one. Right now I'm more concerned about you."

Molly turned to him, giggling at his facial expression. He had what she called his 'captain face' on, stern and serious. She took a gulp of the water, and then sat herself back down on the bed beside him again. "I'm ok, I'm just a bit fragged, that's all."

"Please save me the bullshit. I've just driven for over three hours to get here because Sergeant Geddings was worried about you, and do you know what? He was right to be. Your hands are shaking, Molly, you're a nervous wreck."

"The only things I'm nervous about are you two being in the same room together; and whether or not that pranny was serious about getting pointers off of you. "

"Dawes! Please take this seriously."

"I am."

"Molly…" Geddings knelt on the floor in front of them, sensing that they weren't getting anywhere. "We both want to help you, but you've gotta let us."

"What is this, an intervention?" She placed the glass on the side table and grabbed her bag from the floor. "Thank you for today it started off well, but now I want to go home."

Charles frowned, turning to look at Geddings. Molly was sure they'd never met before, but somehow they seemed to have developed their own non-verbal communication. She watched for a moment as they raised their eyebrows and shrugged at one another, before deciding that she'd seen enough.

"I guess I'll be getting the train then."

Charles silently shook his head and stood up, slowly walking over to her. He took hold of her hand and led her back to the bed, gesturing for her to sit back down. Molly didn't fight him. She knew that she didn't want to go yet, and that deep down, she was scared of being on her own. It made no sense to waste her energy.

"I love you," he whispered, kissing her on the cheek as his fingers slid through her hair. "Please talk to me."

Molly stared down at her hands, her eyes filling with tears. As soon as they started to spill over, trickling down her face, she collapsed into Charles' arms. He reached around her, his hands gently rubbing her back. "I'm so sorry."

"Don't be." He reassured her, kissing the top of her head several times. "It's going to be ok."

She pulled back slightly, just enough to be able to reach up and wipe away the freshly formed tears from his eyes. "Don't you start," she said with a quiet laugh.

"I'm sorry; I'm just worried about you. When did all of this start, eh?"

She took a slow, deep breath. "About six months ago, but I didn't wanna worry you. It was just odd things that set me off at first, and I started getting these panic attacks. Then the flashbacks and nightmares started. When I'm busy it's fine, but some nights I just can't switch off, I can't get a calmness in my nut."

"You should have told me, Molly, we could have dealt with this together."

"I couldn't. It was easier to just keep pushing it away and hoping it would disappear."

"Well it clearly didn't work."

"I know…" Molly nodded, "but I think I'm ready now. I wanna talk about it."


	6. Chapter 6

**Sorry you've had to wait so long x**

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><p>"A soldier came into Headley with a gunshot wound to his upper arm; it wasn't anything abnormal," Molly's eyes were welling as she spoke. She paused for a moment, watching as Geddings silently placed three mugs of coffee on the side table, and sat himself on the floor opposite Molly and Charles. Their fingers were entwined, providing Molly with all of the comfort and reassurance that she needed. "Then he started complaining of headaches and I got paranoid that it was Smurf all over again. That was when the panic attacks started."<p>

"But it wasn't him," Charles said, trying to make sense of what she was saying.

"I know that; but it was like my brain knew, but my body didn't. Every day I saw this fella, it made me feel worse and Afghan never leaves you, you both know that. I wanted to talk about Smurf, I wanted to remember him; but every time I tried chatting to the lads they shut down on me."

"You could and should have spoken to me, Molly."

"Yeah maybe, but I know you found it hard and I didn't wanna bring you down with me. So I just kept pushing the thoughts away, trying to make them disappear."

"But it didn't work," Geddings said, joining the conversation. "That's one of the reasons people suffer from delayed PTSD."

"I still don't think I'm that bad." Molly shook her head, showing that she disagreed with the suggestion. "I just know that the more I try to suppress it, the more flashbacks I start having. When I'm busy I'm fine, normal even. But some nights I just lay in bed, lost in my thoughts cos my brain won't switch off. I've tried everything, but most nights I just give up and stay awake until the morning." She looked at Geddings. "That's why I was online so late last night."

Geddings reached for his coffee and took a sip, unsure of how to respond to that. Charles meanwhile, lifted their interlocked hands, placing a kiss on each of Molly's knuckles. She giggled, flinching at the ticklish sensation. So many thoughts and questions were going through his mind at that moment, but he needed Molly to speak. These were her issues, and whatever happened next, they were going to continue at her pace because ultimately, she was all that mattered. He lowered her hand and returned his gaze to meet hers.

"I thought that storm a few months back was a one-off," she continued. "I'd never reacted like that to anything before. It felt like the end of the world to me. Like that thunder when we were heading along that irrigation ditch going to the compound; do you remember?" She looked at Charles who nodded in response, then to Geddings. "I told you about that earlier, didn't I?"

"You said it scared the shit outta you."

"But we were in Afghan then, Molly; it _could_ have been a mortar. Your reaction this time was far more extreme and you must have understood that you were perfectly safe?"

"Of course, I ain't stupid!" Molly was getting frustrated, trying to explain something that she herself didn't understand. She snatched her hand away and stood up, biting her nails as she paced the room. There was no doubting how stressed she was feeling by the whole situation, and they were making little if any progress.

"Mate," Geddings stood up from the floor and reached for his wallet, passing it to Charles. "The Londis on site shuts at eight, do you wanna go and grab us all something to eat before it closes? I was gonna make something up earlier but I haven't had the chance to stock up yet. I reckon they should have some frozen pizzas or something we can cook up quickly."

"Now? Is it the best…" Charles suddenly fell quiet, causing Molly to stop and turn to him. He simply nodded and left the room, leaving Molly alone with Geddings once more. She frowned; unsure of what he was playing at, sending her boyfriend away at a time when she needed him the most.

"Sit back down," Geddings said gently, gesturing back to the bed. "You know you've got a good'un there. It's quite sickening how much he clearly adores you."

"Adores me? So why the hell does he keep telling me what I should be thinking as though I don't already know?"

"He's only trying to help, Dawes. It must be hard for him, seeing you like this. He was with you on that tour, so would have seen all the same shit as you; and he's been with you ever since and seen everything you've been going through recently. It's pretty bleeding obvious that the poor bloke is kicking himself for not realising what's been going on."

"It's not like I wanted to tell him, I didn't wanna worry him; and like you just said he was in Afghan as well. If I kept bringing up these crap memories, it'd only make him worse and he went through enough out there."

"Exactly, you've hit the nail on the head. He has his own memories to contend with, that's one of the reasons why it's so hard for him. You need to talk through what happened for you, how you saw it; but he remembers it his way. He wants to help you and he can by supporting you; but he's not the right person for you to be talking to about it."

"What are you saying; I should be seeing a shrink?" Molly jumped back up and began pacing the room once more. Backwards and forwards she walked, threatening to wear a hole in the carpet. Geddings silently watched her as she processed her thoughts. "I ain't mental."

"Nobody's saying that you are."

"So what the fuck is wrong with me? I've been fine for the last two years!"

"There is nothing _wrong_ with you, I told you that earlier. It just sounds to me like that soldier at Headley might have been a trigger. Sometimes that's all it takes. Delayed onset isn't massively common, but you've been so busy that you never gave yourself the chance to process what was happening in your head. Pushing all your thoughts away wouldn't have helped much either. I remember reading the results of this study once that suggested women are twice as likely to suffer from PTSD anyway, although I can't tell you why that is."

"If you know so much about it, why can't I talk to you?"

"I'm hardly qualified."

"But you _understand, _and we're friends, ain't we?"

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><p><strong>AN - Delayed onset PTSD is when a diagnosis is made at least 6 months after the traumatic event; although it some cases it can be many years later.**


	7. Chapter 7

**Thank you for all of the lovely reviews, they're keeping me going x**

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><p>Molly eased her eyes open, the morning sun blinding her as it streamed through the window. She had no idea what time it was, and for a moment she wasn't even sure where she was. She curled onto her side, snuggling into her boyfriend's chest; her head rising and falling with each breath he took.<p>

They'd stayed up late the previous night, talking about anything and everything. Molly had wanted to continue talking her problems through with Geddings, but he was insistent that she needed to speak to somebody who was trained to help. Molly had been frustrated, knowing that he wasn't going to back down. She knew that the panic attacks weren't going to miraculously disappear, but she wasn't prepared to talk to a stranger about them.

Once Charles had returned with some sandwiches and snacks from the shop, she did her upmost to make sure they all had some fun. As soon as laughter began to fill the room, she felt her whole body relax. It was exactly the medicine that she needed.

By the time any of them had looked at the clock, it was already past midnight. Charles had offered to take Molly to a Travelodge for the night, insisting that he would be safe to drive after a strong coffee; but his eyes were shut before it was even made, exhaustion consuming him. Molly had tried to wake him, but he was out for the count. Geddings made himself a make-shift bed of pillows and settled himself on the floor for the night, telling Molly to get some rest too.

She'd slept surprisingly well that night, and just as her eyes began to weigh back down, tempted by the prospect of more sleep, she heard the noise of a kettle boiling. It was no use, she thought, slinking out of bed, time to get up. Geddings was stood by the kitchenette, opening a box of tea bags and dropping one into a mug.

"Sorry," Geddings whispered. "I was gagging for a brew, you fancy one?"

Molly smiled, indicating her answer without uttering a word. "I'm sorry about yesterday and you know…freaking out."

"Don't worry about it." Geddings made the teas, handing one mug to Molly. She instantly gripped her hands around it, enjoying the warmth that spread through her body. "Right I'm having a shower before you two commandeer my bathroom."

As soon as the bathroom door shut, Molly eased herself back into the bed with Charles, placing delicate kisses across his chest. His eyes flickered open, but were soon clamped shut once again. She was used to this routine now, and the fact that it could take several attempts to wake him some mornings. Part of her always wondered if he really was falling back asleep each time, or merely pretending just to milk the affection.

Charles let out a low groan as he stirred once more, this time as Molly's lip edged towards his neck. She continued teasing him, waiting for the arm that would imminently snake around her, signalling that he was now awake.

"How long have I been asleep?" He croaked.

"All night," Molly replied, rubbing her own sleep-filled eyes. "We didn't wanna wake you."

He was still only semi-conscious as he began to register his surroundings. "I can't believe I slept in these bloody clothes when there's an overnight bag in the car."

"Eh?"

"Well I didn't know what was wrong with you last night so I had the forethought to pack a couple of overnight bags just in case a trip to the hospital was required."

"Did I ever tell you I love you?"

"Not nearly enough, Dawes." He planted a kiss on the tip of her nose, then pushed back the duvet and retrieved his shoes from the floor and quickly tidied his appearance. "I'll run out to the car now, I won't be long."

Molly eased herself out of bed once more, and had a rummage around the room. Everything was so perfectly neat, almost ready for inspection. At least he practiced what he preached, she thought, retrieving her mug of tea from the side table. She took a sip, but immediately spat it back into the mug. She loved a good cuppa, but this was vile.

Suddenly there was a loud bang and she fell to the floor, the hot liquid spilling around her, saturating the carpet. She felt her body tensing, fear controlling her once more. It all happened so quickly, her reaction instantaneous. She spotted the blanket strewn across the floor, still laying where Geddings had left it after waking up that morning. She took a deep breath, using all of her strength to reach out and grab it, seeking whatever comfort it could provide. All the while, her eyes stayed fixed on the door, begging for Charles to walk back in and rescue her.

Her breathing was rapid and her pulse racing as panic overwhelmed her. "You're not in Afghan anymore," she told herself. "You're at an army barracks in the UK; you're safe, you're safe, you're safe!" No matter how many times she repeated the words, they seemed to make no difference.

"Dawes?" Geddings came out of the bathroom, running over to her with nothing more than his underwear on and a towel draped around his shoulders. He lifted her into a sitting position and pulled into a tight embrace. "Come on, slow, deep breaths; in through your nose, out through your mouth. Just take it slowly, you're ok."

As Molly gradually regained control on her breathing, she lost control of her emotions, tears streaming down her cheeks. "There was a bang, did you hear it?"

"No."

"Molly?" Charles finally re-entered the room, carrying the two overnight bags. He threw them on the floor, taking his girlfriend into his arms. "I was only gone five minutes, what happened?"

"I don't know," Molly shrugged. "I'm sorry, I'm fine now."

Geddings watched on for a moment, trying to decide the best way forward. He couldn't bear to see what she was going through and needed to make sure that she was ok. Of course she had Charles, but he didn't know him from Adam, and for some reason, he felt strangely protective towards her. By whatever means necessary, he wanted to keep her nearby.

"Apparently there's a zoo up the road that's pretty popular, and I've still got a few more days before I start at the MCTC."

"Oh of course, we'll get out of your way."

"Captain James-"

"Charles."

"-Charles," Geddings smirked. "I thought you and Molls might fancy coming too?"

Molly looked at Charles, pleading at him with her eyes. She needed to be busy and this sounded like the perfect distraction. If they left now, then they'd only end up driving back to London or Bath or somewhere in between, and spending the next few days in the same way that they always did. Whilst it was undeniably fun, it was becoming a rather tedious routine and in her mind, it made far more sense to spend at least one more day in Colchester.

Charles immediately knew what Molly wanted; the look on her face told him everything. He rolled his eyes, flashing his smile at her. "Ok, looks like we're going to the zoo then!"

Geddings grinned with satisfaction, knowing that they were going to stay for at least the remainder of that day.

"Are you sure you're ok?" Charles questioned Molly.

"I'm fine," she snapped, heading over to a small mirror that hung from the far wall and running her fingers through her hair, loosening the tangles that had formed whilst she slept. She tugged at the hair band that was slid over her wrist and pulled her hair into a loose pony tail. She could feel her heart still founding in her chest, her senses still heightened.

"We still need to talk - _you_ still need to talk," Charles said, pulling clothes out from one of the bags.

"Not now."

"It won't go away, Molly."

"Maybe not, but right now all I want is to do is forget about it."

Molly stormed into the bathroom, leaving Charles and Geddings in an awkward silence. Charles sunk to the floor, tucking his knees to his chest and resting his head in his hands. A single tear escaped from his eye, streaming down his cheek. He felt utterly helpless and it was torturing him inside. He clutched his chest, hurt by the throbbing pain of his heart breaking.

"She'll be ok," Geddings reassured him. "She's Molly Dawes, remember?"


End file.
